Distant Skies of Rebellion
by Kay Hiouin
Summary: As Zaibach approaches Asturia, Folken realizes that the sorcerers are turning against him....


Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Dilandau sat, brooding in his room. Emperor Dornkirk had refused to let him kill Van. Why? Because they needed him to protect the girl so she would be safe for testing. Idiot emperor! Why did he even want to convert the girl called Hitomi so she would be on Zaibach's side? He shivered at the thought of even dealing every day with her, and started stroking the scar on his cheek. His eyes became insanely wide.

"VAN! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Dilandau knocked over the glass of wine with the back of his hand and his eyes grew even wider. He began to sweat and stroke his cheek faster. "So close…so close…." He murmured, as guards began to mop up the blood red liquid spilling onto the floor. "STOP IT!" The guards stepped back. "OUT! OUT! GO!" He shouted, pulling out a dagger.

The frightened guards ran out, dripping rags still in their hands. Dilandau went back to stoking his chin madly. Suddenly, a knock came at the door. "Who is it?" He asked irritably, but without looking up.

"Viole, Sir. Strategos wants to see you." The low reply came, and a Dragonslayer with deep, plum colored hair opened the door.

"I'll not see that oaf!" Dilandau said, his voice becoming extremely low.

"But, please, it's only for a few minutes."

Dilandau jumped up. The table clattered to the floor. "I SAID, I WILL NOT SEE THAT OAF!" He yelled.

"But Emperor Dornkirk said-"

Dilandau spun around on his heel and threw the dagger straight at Viole. As it was just about to penetrate Viole's skin, Folken came in swiftly and closed his fingers carefully around the blade.

"Good evening, Dilandau. We have many things to discuss. You may go, Viole. I have matters under control."

Viole rushed away with relief, just as Dilandau shouted, "WE HAVE NOTHING TO DISCUSS! I ALMOST KILLED VAN, ONLY YOU HAD TO INTERVENE AND TELL DORNKIRK THAT WE NEEDED HIM!"

"And we do, Dilandau. We need Van. Now, onto the more important matters." Folken walked over and placed his long, wispy, fake, white fingers on the table.

"What, then?" Dilandau played with a wisp of hair idly.

"Come with me, and you will soon understand what I mean." Folken turned around and walked to the door. Dilandau made no move. "Come, Dilandau." Folken said, as if talking to a dog.

"Fine. Only for a few moments." Dilandau walked outside the dark and damp room with Folken.

They came to an even darker room, and Folken whispered, "Here. A small stealth cloak. You don't want to be seen here."

Dilandau was about to protest, but Folken didn't wait and threw the cloak over his head. "Follow me," was all he said.

Folken walked quickly and light-footed, up onto the panel in the floor. Dilandau followed, invisible, wondering if this was a waste of his time. The panel lifted up higher and higher to several more panels, which they stepped on, and went even higher.

_Where are we going?_ Dilandau thought, stepping on another panel.

As if he had heard, Folken said softly, "The sorcerers are up ahead."

Above them was a large, cave-like room with dim candle light. The panel lifted higher and higher, and voices could be heard.

"Emperor Dornkirk would not allow it. Strategos is his absolute favorite." Came a deep voice.

"Silence! I know what I am doing! We may plot it so that Dilandau is framed for Strategos's death." A sharp voice retorted.

At this Dilandau uttered a, "Hey!" Folken nudged him, but it was too late.

"What was that?" Another husky voice asked.

Folken made sure Dilandau was invisible, and said, "It is I, Strategos."

"You! You have been spying on us!" The sharp voice grew nearer, and a bald sorcerer in a heavy black cloak stepped out of the cave.

"I have not. I have only come to tell you that the Emperor requests to see you. You only. The rest do not have to go." Folken said.

The sorcerer muttered something under his breath, but said, "Fine. But do not come in here again." He walked onto the panel, and Folken stepped back a bit.

He laughed coldly, and said, "You are a fool."

"Why, you-" The sorcerer began. He lifted his sword to bring it down on Folken.

Folken stuck his needle-like fingers into his neck. The sorcerer fell flat onto the panel. The other sorcerers gaped. "You are a fool," Folken said, staring down at the sorcerer with cold, unrelenting eyes of ice, "You have always been a fool."

"You! Y-y-you killed him!" The low voice suddenly squeaked.

Folken turned on the low voiced man, but said calmly, "He is not dead. He will only be sleeping for four hours and be very sick."

With that, Folken said, "Come, Dilandau," and allowed his wings to open underneath his heavy, black cloak. He flew down and out of site. The sorcerers stared.

Dilandau screamed, "What? What are you doing!"

But Folken ignored him. Finally Dilandau muttered, "Well, who cares about the panel anyway?" and jumped off the panel, his red cape dashing in the air magnificently after him.


End file.
